


A Sword to Pierce the Sun

by FeatherWriter



Series: Stormlight Age [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Circle of Magi, Cover Art, Dragon Age Setting, Ferelden, Harrowing, Illustrated, M/M, Mage Renarin, Mage Tien, Mage/Templar Relationship, Mages and Templars, Rite of Tranquility, Secret Relationship, Stormlight Archive Characters, Templar Kaladin, Thedas, fic with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherWriter/pseuds/FeatherWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover between Dragon Age: Origins and The Stormlight Archive, with the Stormlight characters in Thedas. Kaladin only joined the templars when the Circle found out about his younger brother’s magic, hoping that he could protect Tien in this unfamiliar world. Now, a member of the ruling Kholin family is discovered as an apostate after years of hiding, and the Circle’s newest apprentice is the talk of the tower. But magic wasn’t the only secret this royal mage was keeping.</p><p>Cover art by Ellie (Swamp-Spirit on tumblr).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And The Stars Stood Still

** **

_[ Cover art by:[Swamp-Spirit](http://swamp-spirit.tumblr.com/post/130009771616/commission-for-the-wonderful-renarinkholin-for#notes) ]_

 

**1**

Kaladin heard the story of what happened with Renarin Kholin a few days before the two actually met. It was quite the tale, and rumors spread quickly through the Circle Tower on Lake Calenhad. One of the king’s cousins, discovered as a mage after all these years? It was a scandal that blazed its way across Ferelden in a rush of shared stories and whispers.

By the time the young prince arrived, the Circle was abuzz with expectation.

Kaladin had thought he would have been able to guess the way a noble apostate would act. Living in luxury for twenty years of his life would make him spoiled. The privilege of being hidden from the Circle by his important family would make him think he could exempt himself from the rules. He’d be exactly the kind of nobleman that Kaladin hated. The kind that made him glad he’d become a templar if it meant gaining the authority to put noble mages in their place.

The young man who walked through the doors, flanked by his templar escort, was not at all what _anyone_ expected.

He had four templars accompanying him, the minimum for any new mage being brought to the Circle. Still, in contrast to the slender mage, four fully armored guards seemed excessive. He hardly seemed like a threat, walking obediently within the formation as they stepped into the entry hall. He glanced around, taking in the new surroundings.

His eyes found Kaladin watching him from a ways down the hall, and Kaladin paused, unwilling to break eye contact. Surely he’d expected the attention he’d garner on arrival, but something in Kaladin felt bad for staring. He couldn’t clearly make out the expression on Kholin’s face from a distance. He thought it was almost too neutral, perhaps a touch of resignation or worry, but very little. He had an air about him that seemed to convey the very idea of quiet. Kaladin wondered if that had something to do with his noble training, or if that was simply the way he was.

The templars dispersed as the First Enchanter walked up to greet their new arrival, and Kaladin was spared further scrutiny. He had duties he’d been neglecting to come see the entrance, and he needed to be about them. The princeling would be a novelty for a while, Kaladin knew, but eventually the outside faded away, and he’d be just another mage.

**2**

“I like him,” Tien said, the statement backed with the same optimistic surety that Tien always had.

Kaladin was off-duty, as he almost always was when he saw Tien. The arrangement allowing Kaladin to become a templar had stipulated that he wouldn't guard the same quarters as Tien and wouldn't stand watch in his brother's classes. It grated that the schedules kept him away from his brother, but he also understood that the Circle couldn't risk nepotism.

Normally he'd be transferred to a different Circle than his brother, but Ferelden had but one. The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander had been very accommodating in allowing Kaladin to stay. He would be grateful for that much, he supposed.

His thoughts returned to the topic at hand. The Kholin boy, the new mage. "You like him?" Kaladin asked, surprised. "He's a nobleman. You hate noblemen. Andraste's sake, he's the king's first cousin. It doesn't get much more noble than that."

Even still, Kaladin's blood boiled at the thought of nobles. Lord Roshone's smugly triumphant face was forever burned in his memory. Nobles thought of themselves first and they weren't afraid to ruin lives on a whim. They were selfish and spoiled.

Tien kicked his heels against the stone wall that he and Kaladin were sitting on, looking out over the calm waters of Lake Calenhad. The upper levels of the tower occasionally opened up into garden terraces. A nice place for mages and templars to get fresh air and sunlight without needing to worry that anyone would be tempted to run away.

“He’s nice, though,” Tien said, still smiling. “He’s very quiet and he doesn’t smile much, but he’s nice. I don’t think he likes it very much here, but maybe he just needs a friend.”

Kaladin shook his head, unsurprised that Tien would think the best of this newcomer, but also wishing he wouldn’t. Tien saw the best in everyone, which was endearing, but sometimes there were people who couldn’t be trusted. He didn’t want his little brother taken in by someone like that.

“He’s noble, Tien,” Kaladin said. “They’re trained to seem nice. That’s how they keep you from messing up their plans. They seem like good people, but it’s all fake. The moment it’s in their interest to stop being nice, they turn on you.”

“I don’t know, Kal,” Tien said with an unaffected shrug. “I don’t think he’s like that. Maybe nobles are kinda like templars.”

Kaladin, as a templar, took offense at that. “What do you mean by that?”

“We never liked templars growing up, remember?”

It wasn’t a surprising point of view for their family. Kaladin’s father, Lirin, had been the town’s healer, and if people had been uncomfortable with the idea of magic, he’d been useful enough that they still came around. While Kaladin had inherited some of his father’s skill with the more mundane aspects of healing and surgery, Tien had been the one to inherit the magical spark. Within the context of an apostate father and an apostate younger brother, Kaladin had grown up seeing templars as the enemy.

He still couldn’t quite believe that he actually was one now.

Sometimes he could still picture his father’s betrayed face when Kaladin had run forward, volunteering to join the Order. He had to see it was the only way, though, didn’t he? Roshone blamed their family for his son’s death, but he knew he couldn’t go after Lirin himself. Apostate or no, the townspeople would never approve if he took their healer away.

The town healer’s youngest son was a much less protected position. Tien hadn’t done anything wrong other than hiding, but Roshone turned him over to the Circle and called the templars down on their heads. The worst had happened: they’d started to take his little brother away and he couldn’t just stand by and let it happen. There was no place for bystanders in the Circle, so he’d volunteered. He became a templar to stay close to his brother. It was the only way to protect him.

In response to Tien’s question, he said: “Of course I remember.”

“We used to think templars were all bad, and we hated them,” Tien said, ever cheery. “But then you became a templar and then we got here and met other nice templars and well, maybe it’s like that. Maybe not all the nobles are mean like Roshone was. Maybe he’s one of the nice ones.”

Kaladin’s instinct was to argue, and say that there were still plenty of templars who were jerks, or that nobles were a different thing entirely, or that Tien was only going to get taken in and manipulated with that kind of attitude. He just couldn’t buy it, but he also knew that he always had trouble acting cynical around Tien. Tien had always managed to pull Kaladin out of his grumpiness, even when it came to noblemen.

So, rather than voicing his doubts, he simply shrugged, letting the issue drop. “Yeah, Tien. Maybe you’re right.”

**3**

There were a few times where Kaladin’s guard schedule overlapped with Renarin Kholin’s class schedule. He was never assigned to any classes that Tien was in, but there were a few entry-levels in which he was stationed to watch over.

Watching mages with very little training attempt basic spells was usually not the most exciting of jobs. The enchanters leading the instruction were usually competent enough to keep their charges in line. As in most things, having templars on duty was meant as a last resort. A precautionary step. They were only expected to intervene if something went truly wrong.

Since things rarely went seriously off plan, this mostly meant Kaladin’s job involved a lot of watching young mages attempt to conjure flames the size of candle lights or coat a metal ball in a layer of frost. Not exactly the most engaging of activities. Two templars per class was customary, but the two would not speak with each other, of course. They wouldn’t wish to distract each other from watching or the mages from their instruction. Most of the novice class shifts Kaladin spent on guard with Dallet, one of the other templars in his squad..

More and more, however, Kaladin found himself watching Renarin Kholin whenever he was present. For one, he was one of the oldest mages in these novice classes. Most of the Circle’s inhabitants were found when they were young, very soon after they started to show signs of magic. Tien, entering at age thirteen, had been one of the older mages in his classes. Renarin, at twenty, seemed laughably out of place among his… rather young ‘peers.’

The almost awkward picture of the young man surrounded by adolescents almost made Kaladin feel bad for him. Then he remembered that the _reason_ Renarin Kholin had been able to avoid the Circle for 20 years of his life likely had everything to do with the privilege his family name lent him, and Kaladin felt markedly less sorry for him. He realized, deep down, that it was probably a somewhat hypocritical view for him to be glad that Renarin had been caught, considering his father was currently an apostate and his brother had attempted living as one.

He didn’t really care about being hypocritical. His vindictive enjoyment of a nobleman not getting away with escaping the rules won out over his sense of pride. Besides, he could tell himself that he was just learning, finally, to accept the Chantry’s point of view, as was his duty as a templar. He was supposed to believe that mages belonged in the Circle, as that was what his training said. Supposedly, it was safer that way. He could pretend he believed that was the reason he was glad Renarin was here. He didn’t need to feel bad about enjoying the idea of an apostate being caught.

Still, he couldn’t help but watch.

Renarin seemed to struggle with some of the most basic spells, elemental spells in particular. Usually those spells with a more tangible aspect were those that beginners picked up on the fastest, but such was not the case here. Fire, frost, and flickering electricity all seemed to elude him. When he did manage to cast such spells, they were faint or difficult to control.

Despite the fact that he was often being surpassed by children barely over half his age, Kaladin never saw him complain or protest. Outwardly, he stayed calm and composed, steadying himself with a deep breath as another spell went wrong, before dutifully attempting it again. The small crease that deepened as the classes went on between Renarin’s eyebrows was the only sign the mage’s frustration at the continued futility of his efforts.

Kaladin had felt ready to write the boy off as simply a weak caster until, one day, the unexpected came to pass. One of the other mages, young enough to be inexperienced but old enough to feel reckless, lost control of his spell. He pulled too deeply, let his casting get away from him. With a surge of mana, the modest ball of flame he’d held between his hands burst forward, expanding in a rush through the room.

Kaladin had jumped to attention immediately, both he and Dallet rushing forward. Kaladin pulled the cool power from his lyrium into his hands, immediately laying suppression upon the spell to dissipate the flames. The unfortunate caster was thankfully experienced enough to protect himself from his own magic, and he was far enough from most of the other students that his out of control fire didn’t immediately engulf anyone else.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, Kaladin caught sight of something. With the lyrium’s power burning through his veins and his focus on the fire, he was surprised that he noticed it at all. Off to the side, in front of the nearest group of mages, Renarin Kholin threw up his hands before the rogue spell and a solid barrier blossomed forth, shielding both him and the others near him. The fires pressed against the wall, red and orange licking up against the impenetrable magic for only a moment before the templars’ dispel took hold and the flames disappeared.

There was a space of still-tense silence in the wake of the event, Kaladin and Dallet standing alert, the other mages watching wide-eyed at the display. When Kaladin glanced back to the side, the barrier was gone, and Renarin had his arms down at his sides, hands hidden within the large sleeves of his robes. At Kaladin’s glance, their eyes locked again for a few heartbeats, and there was -- if anything -- a slight touch of fear in Renarin’s eyes as he realized Kaladin had seen.

Then, the instructor stepped forward again, quickly taking control of the situation with a few authoritative words. The moment passed, and Renarin looked away. Kaladin stepped backward, returning to his post at the side of the room and trying, unsuccessfully, to understand what exactly he had seen, what it meant, and why Renarin might be afraid that he had seen it.

He failed on all three accounts.

**4**

“I am not going to be passed off and dismissed by some templar recruit who’s barely come off his first dose. If you’re not going to help me, then I demand to talk to someone who _can_.”

Kaladin overheard the imperious voice coming from the hallway he’d just passed by and simply stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. _That_ was a nobleman’s voice if ever he’d heard one, and there was a part of him that wanted to just pass by and keep walking. Leave whatever annoying lord had walked into the Circle to whatever unfortunate recruit had gotten caught up in trying to get rid of him.

“My lord, ser,” a nervous sounding voice replied. “I’m sorry, but I’m under orders. I-I cannot permit you to go any further into the Circle.”

Kaladin sighed. He recognized _that_ voice. Dunny. He’d always had a soft spot for Dunny. Besides, it wasn’t as though he _didn’t_ enjoy telling off various lords when they overstepped their bounds. Mustering every bit of defiant authority he possessed, he turned down the hall, walking quickly to Dunny’s rescue.

He turned the corner just as the nobleman was winding up for another round of self-entitled complaining. Not giving him a chance to get started, Kaladin gave Dunny a small nod of acknowledgement. “Is there a problem here, Recruit?”

The nobleman closed his mouth with an affronted look. He likely wasn’t used to being ignored in a conversation. Kaladin tried to look at him out of the corner of his eye, not wishing to give him the honor of an actual regard. He was younger than Kaladin had expected, perhaps only a few years older than Kaladin himself. _Maker’s breath, how could someone manage to become so pompous, so young?_

He wore some of the finest clothes Kaladin had ever seen, though they were dusty from days on the road. The idea that someone would wear something so fashionable to travel seemed nothing short of ridiculous. The outfit was obviously Orlesian-inspired, though a very Ferelden mantle of fur across the shoulders kept the style from seeming _too_ Orlesian.

Dunny looked unduly grateful to see Kaladin. “I was just trying to explain, ser, to this--”

“He was attempting to brush me off with flimsy excuses. I didn’t travel all the way from Denerim to get turned away at the gate by a common recruit.” There was something about this man that seemed familiar, but Kaladin couldn’t quite place what it was.

Kaladin crossed his arms, giving him an unimpressed look. “The ‘common recruit’ is entirely correct, actually. The Circle has established visiting days, and you happen to be at least two months early. If you’d like to come back then, I’m sure we’d be _happy_ to help you then.” The steely smile Kaladin gave him said enough about how sincere that sentiment was.

The nobleman gave him a flat look. “You must be joking. Do you know who I am?”

Kaladin shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t particularly care.”

To the side, Dunny made a small choking noise, then covered it with a cough. Stepping forward, the young recruit said nervously: “This is… Prince Adolin Kholin, ser.”

The familiarity clicked into place. Renarin’s brother. Of course. Now that Dunny had made the connection, Kaladin could see the family resemblance. Perhaps it had been the drastic difference in mannerism that had thrown him off. It was difficult to imagine that quiet, reserved Renarin and this pompous courtier could be from the same family, despite the fact that they looked alike.

Adolin gave Kaladin an expectant look, waiting for him to either amend his previous statements or apologize for his behavior thus far.

Kaladin ducked his head slightly. “I apologize, my Lord. I didn’t recognize you, and I seem to have misspoken.”

A self-satisfied smile started to assert itself across Adolin’s expression..

“If you’re here to see your brother,” Kaladin continued, “novices in the Circle are not allowed visitation rights for their first _six_ months of training. You’ll need to come back after _that_ period of time. Until then, you’re out of luck.”

Adolin sputtered, outrage flashing across his features, and Kaladin had to hide how pleased that made him. He probably ought to be more concerned that he might very well be making very powerful enemies, but for the moment, he would just enjoy the look on the prince’s face.

“Who exactly do you think you are to refuse me? I could have you stripped of rank for your rudeness, Serah...” Adolin’s angered outburst trailed off as he realized he didn’t actually know Kaladin’s name.

“Knight-Corporal Kaladin is the correct address, usually,” Kaladin said evenly. “And I highly doubt the Knight-Commander is going to demote me for following the rules. Lord Kholin, I realize that you are undoubtedly used to getting your way in all things, but Circle policy is very strict. Especially as regards new recruits. The high probability of those on the outside trying to mount some kind of ill-advised escape attempt makes that strictness necessary.”

The implication in Kaladin’s words was clear: _You’re not going to get him out, no matter what you try._

He thought back to Tien’s first months in the Circle. Kaladin hadn’t been allowed to see him at all, and they kept Kaladin well sequestered in the templar recruit quarters. The fact that he was allowed to join and stay was already pushing the boundaries. Everyone knew there was a chance that Kaladin had only joined to try to break his brother out, so he had to prove that wasn’t the case. It was made very clear to Kaladin that if he did anything to step out of line, he’d be kicked from the Order and Tien would be all alone.

Tien had been forced to stay. Kaladin hadn’t been able to do anything to get him out. If the son of a common healer had to stay in the Circle, then so did the son of a prince.

Adolin’s fists clenched at his sides. “Listen, Knight-Corporal. There’s been a mistake. My brother is not a mage. He’s been… framed somehow. Set up by one of our House’s enemies. If you would simply let me by to speak with the First Enchanter…”

“Prince Kholin,” Kaladin interrupted. “I have personally seen your brother cast his own spells and there are an abundance of witnesses who can say the same. If you’re trying to convince the Circle to let him go, I’d suggest you try a different lie. Or, better yet, give up this line of thought entirely and accept the fact that this is the way things are.”

For a long moment, there was silence as Adolin fumed, glaring in Kaladin’s direction, and Kaladin stared impassively back. Finally Adolin let out short, terse breath. "He's my _brother_. Can't you understand that? There's been some kind of mistake and I can't just stand by and do _nothing_."

Kaladin had to keep himself from reacting, surprised that there would be something in this pompous nobleman that would be familiar. Losing a younger brother to the Circle was an experience that Kaladin could relate to, and he'd been allowed a loophole to follow along. Despite himself, he felt a tinge of sympathy that wasn't there before. Then he felt annoyed that he’d found something relatable between the two of them.

Still, he wasn't going to show that. "There's no mistake," he said. Then, because he couldn't entirely keep himself from feeling bad for Adolin, he added: "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, but there's nothing you can do."

Adolin's eyes narrowed, as if expecting a trick in Kaladin's apology. It was gone in an instant, replaced with disdainful hostility once more. “Fine,” Adolin bit out. “Give me this, then. Tell him ‘it doesn’t matter.’ Are you capable of that much, at least?”

Kaladin wanted to decline on the basis of not being ordered around, but three words didn’t actually seem too unreasonable a request. “What doesn’t matter?”

“If the message was for you, you’d understand it, templar. Seeing as it’s not, maybe you ought to mind your own business.”

“Well then,” Kaladin said, mock-politely. “If that’s everything, the door is directly behind you, _my Lord._ Finding it shouldn’t be too difficult for you. I assume you’re _capable of that much, at least._ ”

Adolin bristled again, but Kaladin didn’t give him a chance to respond. Giving Dunny a nod that said ‘that ought to take care of him,’ Kaladin turned on his heel and walked back into the Circle, leaving the recruit and slighted prince behind.


	2. Souls Made Of Dream

**5**

Sometimes, late at night when no one was around, Kaladin studied healing magic.

He was no mage, he was well aware of that. Growing up, there had been times that he’d wished he had the spark, like his father, like Tien. Lirin couldn’t always handle the demands of the town with his magic alone, and Tien had no skill in healing. Kaladin had served as a kind of apprentice, working with more mundane methods to augment what Lirin did to help.

He and his father were always working to make healing easier. The more they could do without magic, the more efficient the healing worked. If non-magical means could aid the recovery, there was less strain on the mage, less mana used. In the context of one man trying to take care of an entire town, every little bit helped.

Even though he didn’t work as a surgeon anymore, Kaladin couldn’t quite pass up the wealth of knowledge in the Circle library. If he could better understand how healing spells _worked_ , he might be able to find ways to make them work _better_. If part of a mages power was going toward sealing a wound closed when healing, would stitching it closed before casting make it easier to seal? If a surgeon could disinfect a cut chemically, would less mana be required to purify it? Was a cleansing spell more efficient if paired with treatments by medicinal herbs?

There was a lot to think about, and he’d started taking notes over the things he could find. Thus far, he hadn’t quite brought himself to say anything to anyone else. A part of him felt he needed a more complete picture before speaking up, so as not to make a fool of himself. Another part said that he wasn’t a surgeon anymore and templars didn’t have need for more complicated ideas of healing. Most got by with nothing more than basic field medicine; Kaladin was already far and above the rest in that regard without needing to study.

Regardless, he spent more time in the library than most people would guess, especially after the rest of the Circle had grown quiet as everyone went to bed. Nights in which he had late night patrols, he often spent the hours beforehand looking through the texts by notched candlelight.

On one such night, he glanced at the candle on his desk, realizing he probably needed to get going if he were going to get to his assigned shift on time. The wax was lined, so that one could tell time by watching how quickly the flame burned through each marking. He probably could stay here longer, but he liked to take some extra time before the night patrols to wake himself up, especially after sitting in one place reading for a while.

Standing and stretching, Kaladin gathered his notes, stacked his books, and blew out the candle, letting his eyes adjust to the soft moonlight coming through the windows. He started down the long shelves of books, grateful that books on healing magic were all kept in the same place. As he put the last one away though, a small glow coming from the other end of the room caught his eye.

Kaladin stilled. Now that he’d seen it, the soft blue light was unmistakable, but there was still something about it that made him surprised he’d noticed. His eyes seemed to slide over the area, and when he looked away, he could feel himself start to forget what he’d seen. Whatever magic was going on, there was some aspect of it to make it specifically unremarkable. Kaladin had a feeling that if it weren’t for his magic resistance, he wouldn’t have picked up on it at all.

He frowned. It was hours after curfew.

Creeping forward, he stayed up on the balls of his feet, trying to move silently to see what was going on. He circled around the outside of the shelves, wanting to be able to get a glance from a distance. As he turned the corner, he saw perhaps he needn’t have bothered. The culprit was asleep, dozing quietly with his head resting atop folded arms on the desk. Around him, just large enough to encircle the legs of his chair, a circle of complicated runes was the source of the soft light Kaladin had seen.

_Is that… Renarin Kholin?_

Kaladin stepped closer, trying to get a better look. He was well outside the bounds of whatever spell Renarin was inside, and he had no intention of getting too close to that. Just in case, he prepared himself to dispel the area if he needed to. He didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he had a feeling it wasn’t Circle sanctioned.

He realized too late that those runes weren’t the only spell in the area. At around twenty feet away, his silent footstep triggered a small flash of light at his feet, and Renarin’s head snapped upward. His now-awake eyes focused on Kaladin, wide in panic as Renarin found him immediately.

**6**

“Knight-Corporal K-Kaladin,” Renarin stammered. “I… I didn’t hear…”

Kaladin’s first surprise in this was that Renarin knew his name and rank. Unlike the nearly-royal apostate who made exceptional gossip fodder, Kaladin was not anyone remarkable in the Circle. He would have expected to be nothing more than another face to Renarin, just another templar guard.

He waited for Renarin to come up with a complete sentence in response to being discovered. He didn’t want to supply anything that might make it easier to construct a lie. He’d see what Renarin could say in his own defense without prompting.

Renarin blinked, looking around at his desk and the dark shelves around them. Kaladin absently noted that the glowing runes had disappeared.. “I… It’s late, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I must have dozed off while studying. Is it after curfew already?”

For someone who had supposedly grown up in a noble court, Renarin Kholin was shockingly bad at lying.

Kaladin didn’t buy it for one minute. For one, all of the common areas were checked at curfew to make certain there was no one in them. If Renarin had slipped the watch, he must have intentionally hidden. He also seemed to be operating on the hope that Kaladin hadn’t seen whatever spell he’d had cast around himself while asleep. He’d also had a proximity ward set up around himself, Kaladin realized. Considering little flash around that had appeared his foot, Kaladin getting too close had been what had woken him up.

He let silence hang between them, letting Renarin feel the guilt of the lie for a bit. “I saw the spell,” he said. “I think it would probably be best if you told me what is actually going on here, before I start to assume the worst.”

Even in the dim light, Kaladin thought he could see Renarin blanch. “I didn’t… I mean...”

Despite the fact that Kaladin hadn’t been trying to be threatening, he felt bad for how terrified Renarin seemed. His training quickly reminded him that fear was likely stemming from guilt. He should not be taken in. He needed to be vigilant. Renarin was a mage, and therefore dangerous.

Kaladin took a small step forward, and Renarin shrank back. “Just tell me what’s going on,” Kaladin said quietly.

Renarin grimaced, still staring at Kaladin and looking as though he were still searching for a way out. Then, his head dropped, posture slumping. It was a motion that bespoke defeat. “I… was sleeping.”

“Yeah I saw that.” Kaladin frowned. “You know, I really didn’t take you for the type to talk back to a templar.”

Renarin’s eyes went wide. “No, no, I wasn’t trying to… I mean, I really was just trying to sleep.” He trailed off, wincing. “I can’t sleep in the dormitories. I needed to cast, but novices aren’t allowed to do magic outside of the classroom. The spell, it was a protective ward. I’m sorry, I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I just needed…” He trailed off. “I’m… not making any sense, am I?”

Kaladin raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t yet, no. Why, exactly, do you need protection while you’re asleep?”

Renarin closed his eyes, creases forming around them as he squeezed them shut. “I’m a Dreamer.”

This sounded like a confession, but Kaladin wasn’t following. “I assume you mean that in a way other than ‘someone who has dreams,’ right?”

A small nod, eyes still shut. “The Imperium uses the word _somniari._ Basically it means… I have a deeper connection to the Fade than most mages. I always know when I’m dreaming. I’m lucid. I’m _aware_ of the Fade whenever I’m unconscious. I can control it, usually. Manipulate anything I find in my dreams and change it however I want.”

“And this causes you to have to sleep in the library for some reason?”

“Knowing they aren’t real doesn’t make the nightmares any easier to bear.” Renarin said, looking up finally. “If anything it makes them worse, because I know the things that are creating them. Sleeping is dangerous for me, without the wards. That was why I needed to get away. I needed somewhere private, somewhere I wouldn’t be found. Or… somewhere I _thought_ I wouldn’t be found, I suppose.”

Kaladin slowly started to put the pieces of what Renarin was saying together. Deeper connection to the Fade, dangerous, the _things_ that caused nightmares. His hand unconsciously moved for his sword. “You aren’t… possessed, are you?” He’d never faced an abomination before, not on his own at least. He had attended a few Harrowings gone wrong, but he was never the Primary. He had never actually had to fight one.

Renarin started. “No! No, I swear I’m not! Please, you have to believe me! That’s why I try to be careful, that’s why I need the wards. They push against me and having protection helps keep them out. I don’t let them in, though. _Never_. I would never let them take me.”

“But,” Kaladin prompted, when it looked like he wasn’t going to continue.

“It’s more dangerous for me,” Renarin continued reluctantly. “I don’t know if the Dreamer connection makes it easier for the spirits, because I’m closer to the Fade, or if they come after me because I have a different kind of power that they want. But they do, they pursue me. Moreso than they would other mages.”

He put his head in his hands, rubbing small circles at his temples. “It’s worse here, in the Circle. I don’t know if it’s because I wasn’t using wards for the first time in so long. Maybe it’s all the magic around here, that the Veil gets weakened from all the spells pulling on it. Or maybe there’s just more demons here because this is where all of the mages are gathered, like having all of us in one place tempts them.

“I couldn’t do it,” he said, looking at Kaladin with pleading eyes. “The nightmares… I just couldn’t. I haven’t had a good night’s rest since I got here. I had to sneak away tonight. I’m sorry, I know it was breaking the rules, but I needed just one night’s rest. Just one.”

Considering how bad Renarin had been at lying originally, Kaladin’s instincts said he was telling the truth here. There was something earnest about his explanation, a desperate kind of need to be believed. He knew he was guilty of breaking rules, but he hoped that by explaining the situation, he might be able to garner some sympathy.

It happened to be working.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Kaladin asked, walking closer. “One of the senior enchanters, or someone who specializes in spirit magic. They’ve probably seen or worked with Dreamers before. They could help you set up wards to sleep with or get special dispensation or help you learn spells to deal with this.”

Renarin’s expression took on a queasy cast in the dim light. After a moment of silent discomfort he spoke again. “My family’s library had a lot of boring official documents. Statistics and censuses, the kinds of old documents that governing people are supposed to have but no one really looks at. Unless they get curious about something specific, I suppose.”

Kaladin was struck, in a moment between words, by just how deep Renarin’s eyes seemed in the darkness. How different this mage was from the shallow nobleman he’d expected. There was something undeniably real behind those eyes, something deep. Something that proclaimed itself to be unknowable, but that Kaladin couldn’t help but wish to know.

“ _Somniari_ are seventy percent more likely to be made Tranquil than regular mages,” Renarin continued, voice quiet. Distant. Haunted. "I can't tell anyone. If they found out, I'd be declared too dangerous, I know it."

"Why hide what you're capable of, then?" Kaladin asked, remembering what he'd seen in Renarin's classes. "If you make the teachers think you don't know how to cast, they'll only think you can't handle yourself. That barrier you threw up the other day was impressive, and from what I saw of this spell, you've got a good grasp of complex magics. I mean, you had a proximity ward, your dream protection, and something to make it all hard to notice. That's far beyond the scope of most novices."

Renarin frowned in confusion. "Hide? Oh, you mean in the classes." He seemed embarrassed.

Kaladin backtracked quickly. "Wait, you... weren't faking?"

Renarin shook his head, looking away.

"How can you cast all this--” Kaladin gestured to the space around them, despite the fact that there wasn’t anything to see anymore. “--and not the novice spells?"

"I never learned how," Renarin said, voice small yet defensive. “I can do these spells because they’re the ones I practiced. I needed these spells to be safe. And spirit magic has always been the easiest to cast. Wards and barriers came more naturally than anything else. Those spells in class, they start with the elemental magic. It’s too physical, and I just can’t get ahold of it. Maybe I’m too old now, maybe I should have learned when I was younger.”

"How long have you had magic?"

"I think I was ten or so? It was a long time ago."

Kaladin crossed his arms. "You're telling me that your noble family hid you from the Circle for nearly ten years and never bothered to find someone to help you control your powers?"

Renarin pursed his lips, and Kaladin was struck by how the longer he talked, the more embarrassed Renarin became about the confessions he was making in response to his questions.

"My family didn't know."

**7**

Kaladin blinked as he tried to process this, reevaluating all of the things he'd assumed about Renarin and the life he'd lived before the Circle. He'd thought Renarin surely had grown up exempted from Chantry laws by his family’s connections. Ideas about comfortable protection were replaced with imagining living with an exceptionally dangerous secret, hiding a major part of his life from everyone he knew.

Tien had been understandably scared when he’d begun to manifest his powers, and that had been after growing up around Lirin’s magic, and within the support of his family protecting him. Kaladin couldn’t imagine starting to show signs of magic in a situation with no one to trust, suddenly being burdened with a secret that had to be kept from everyone.

Renarin’s quiet and unassuming air took on a new light. As a second son, he’d been able to slip back out of the attentions of court, making himself as unnoticeable as possible. If no one was looking toward him, how much easier it would be to conceal himself. Kaladin remembered the way his attention had slid away from the glow of the spell, some aspect of the magic making it difficult to focus upon. Renarin’s actions were like that touch of glamour, making him something easy to overlook within the context of a court.

_How out of his element he must have been, arriving here as the center of attention. He stands out everywhere he goes here. Unmistakably the oldest in every lesson he attends, the subject of gossip as the relative of a king, distantly unapproachable now, but certainly never ignored._

Tien had said he thought Renarin didn’t like it here in the Circle. Between his nightmares and the sudden shift in his role, Kaladin couldn’t imagine there was anything in the Circle Renarin _wouldn’t_ dislike.

“How…” Kaladin struggled to form the question. “How did you keep anyone from finding out?”

“The dreams came first,” Renarin said. “In that regard, I was lucky I suppose. I knew what to expect when I started feeling the magic. I couldn’t control myself at first, but I knew what it felt like when it started. I found ways to get away and be alone until it passed. Eventually I learned how to suppress the outbursts. I didn’t cast anything other than the wards I needed at night.” He paused. “That’s probably why I can’t pick up the novice spells, I would guess. I spent too long teaching myself _not_ to cast.”

Kaladin sat down in the chair beside Renarin. It was a de-escalation, of sorts. Rather than an accusatory templar standing over a guilty mage, they were on the same level, this way. Closer to a conversation than an interrogation.

“I can’t believe you managed to hide yourself for that long, alone.”

“I had to,” Renarin said. “I was afraid of the Circle, but there was more to it than that. My family have always been Chantry supporters. They wouldn’t be able to run the risk of sheltering an apostate. Too much danger, too much scrutiny. And if anyone found out my family’s line had magic, it'd be a blow to our validity. The last thing my brother needed was another reason for his betrothals to fall apart, and it would be devastating to the line. People already say King Elhokar is politically weaker than his father was and people would use my magic to say that Kholins weren’t fit for rule.”

Renarin grimaced, seeming to remember that his secret, had in fact, already been found out. “Or… I suppose they _are currently_ saying those things. Maybe I made a mistake in hiding. Maybe if I’d come forward at the start they would have been able to find some way to minimize the damage, rather than having everything blow up in their faces like this.”

Without thinking, Kaladin put a hand on Renarin’s shoulder, a reassuring gesture. “You were trying to protect them. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that. Besides, I have a feeling your brother doesn’t need any help messing up betrothals from what I saw. You couldn’t exactly make anything worse there.”

Renarin looked confused, first at the touch, then at the mention of his brother. “Do you know him?”

“Oh,” Kaladin said, cursing himself for forgetting. “I… yeah. We met, at least. He was here.”

“Adolin came to the Circle?”

Kaladin nodded. “He was trying to get you out through use of rank alone, I think. Bullying one of the templar recruits until I stepped in. I… told him he could shove off, more or less politely.”

“I don’t imagine he took that very well,” Renarin said quietly.

Kaladin shrugged. “He was only going to make a fool of himself if he kept making a scene. Rules are rules. Ah… he did ask me to give you a message, though. He said ‘tell him it doesn’t matter.’ He didn’t explain what it meant.”

Renarin’s face fell into a sad sort of smile, and he looked down at his hands, going quiet for a moment. “Thank you for telling me.”

“He was talking about you being a mage? Because he didn’t know?”

“He wasn’t there when they caught me,” Renarin said. “I was glad for that, at first. I didn’t want to see the way he’d look at me when he found out I had magic. I thought he might hate me, for keeping the secret or for having magic at all. Maybe he doesn’t though. Now I think I might have liked to have said goodbye.”

“The Circle isn’t a prison, even though it might feel like one right now,” Kaladin said, though it didn’t feel like much of a reassurance. “The first few months are the hardest, but I’m sure you’ll be able to see them again soon.”

Renarin went quiet again. “If I survive that long. I’d like to still be me when they see me again.”

“You should show the senior enchanters what you’re capable of. Mages are made Tranquil if they can’t control themselves or resist possession, but you can obviously handle complicated spells with practice and you have experience in warding off demons too. You wouldn’t need to tell them about the Dreamer thing, but at least they could see your skill. You need to convince them you can handle yourself!”

Renarin shook his head. “They would figure it out. My struggle with physical magic and tendency toward spirit magic would be suspicious.The fact that the only spells I can cast well are sleeping wards would give me away immediately.” Renarin shivered. “The only reason they’ve put up with me struggling with magic this long is because they don’t know I’m a Dreamer. If word got out, they’d say I was too dangerous immediately.”

Kaladin felt frustrated, though he wasn’t entirely certain why. This wasn’t his problem, it was Renarin’s. Why was he bothered? “Well you have to do _something._ ”

The sound of armored footsteps clanked in the hallway outside. Renarin and Kaladin both stilled, going silent, waiting until the noise retreated. The current patrol making their rounds, but thankfully there was no reason for them to need to check the library. The sound of it reminded Kaladin of his own imminent patrol, however. He was going to have to hurry to make it on time now.

Renarin gave him a wary look as Kaladin started to stand. “What are you going to do with me, Knight-Corporal?”

Kaladin glanced between the mage and the doorway, feeling torn between sympathy and duty. “I don’t know, for certain. Right now, I’m thinking that I have a patrol in less than half an hour and need to report to the barracks. And I can’t leave you here. Let me walk you back to the dorms. Hopefully if any of the other templars see me with you, they won’t ask questions. For now, I won’t tell anyone about this. But no more sneaking out.”

Renarin gave a sigh of relief, nodding. It seemed that the fact that Kaladin wasn’t turning him in was enough for the moment. “Yes, ser. It won’t happen again, ser.”


	3. Unshaken By The Darkness

**8**

For a few months, there was progress, it seemed. Slow progress yes, but forward motion nonetheless. Kaladin kept watching Renarin in his magic classes, and day by day, the prince got better. He was later on the uptake than the other students, but he was getting closer with every attempt.

As Renarin was allowed to try slightly more complex magics, he started running into techniques from the spirit school of magic. They were meant to be more difficult than the novice level elementals he’d been working with before, but Kaladin could see how much more naturally he picked them up. Renarin held back, not wanting to reveal how easy spirit magic was for him, but he couldn’t entirely hide his aptitude.

He still struggled with the elemental spells, but he was improving. Things got better.

A few weeks after the encounter in the library, Kaladin asked one of the Tranquil if there were any enchanted objects that could help mages who struggled with bad dreams. His questioning was rewarded with a ring that would help suppress one’s connection to the Fade, in the same way another ring might augment it to make a mage more powerful. He was warned that the mage shouldn’t try to cast while wearing it, as they’d drain themselves of mana with little to no result to show for it.

Renarin made sure to wear it only while he was asleep, but he kept it nearby, always. It stayed strung on a cord around his neck, hidden beneath the thick fabric of his robes most of the time. When he thought no one was looking, Kaladin had watched him fiddle with it absently. There was something almost mesmerizing about the metallic gleam as Renarin’s slender fingers turned the little silvery loop over and over again.

The ring didn’t entirely make the dangerous nightmares go away, but it made them more bearable. Things got better.

Kaladin became very adept at noticing when Renarin’s sleep was flagging, even with the ring’s help. His surgeon’s training let him know exactly what to look for when he needed to catch the signs of exhaustion. When he could tell that things were becoming too much, Kaladin would find some moment when the two of them were both free, and quietly lead Renarin somewhere secluded where they wouldn’t be caught. Kaladin would stand watch for a few hours as Renarin cast the full regiment of his wards curled up for a nap. It wasn’t how Kaladin would normally choose to spend his free time, but it was worth it to let Renarin steal away what small snatches of truly restful sleep he could.

It wasn’t nearly enough to make up for all the lost sleep. But it was more than nothing. Things got better.

Tien inexplicably established himself as Renarin’s new friend, to Renarin’s surprise as much as anyone else’s. Tien simply seemed to decide one day that he and Renarin would work together on things, and that was all that needed to be done. When Renarin needed someone to help him practice, Tien happily volunteered, pleased to have someone that he could help out with spells and such. While some might have been embarrassed to be tutored by someone so much younger than themselves, Renarin never showed anything other than genuine gratitude for Tien’s assistance.

Renarin was still seen as an outcast among his peers, but he wasn’t entirely alone. Things got better.

Kaladin started to think that this might just work out, that Renarin might be able to pull this off.

And then things got worse.

**9**

“...should have done it weeks ago. Everyone knew it was coming, so why delay the inevitable?”

Gaz’s voice alone was usually enough to put Kaladin in a bad mood, and overhearing the surly, one-eyed Knight-Lieutenant in the barracks this day made no exception. As Kaladin undid the buckles on his armor -- tired, sore, and sweaty from the day’s training -- he was tempted to ignore Gaz’s obnoxiously loud gossip entirely.

The man was, unfortunately, difficult to tune out.

“We all know the real reason he’s gotten away this long,” Gaz continued, working to take off his own armor as he spoke with the group of templars around him. “His family’s important and they’re probably going to throw a fit over it, but it needs to be done.”

Kaladin froze, blood running cold.

“Everyone knows he can’t cast,” another voice said. Knight-Lieutenant Matal, another superior officer Kaladin wasn’t fond of. “It’s been months and he’s barely capable of handling novice level spells. His family got him out of this for twenty years. It’s about time he learned a mage is a mage, just like anyone else.”

“We’re lucky he’s not an abomination already,” Gaz added. “You know the mages say he has nightmares at night. He’s demon-bait, that one is. Should have Tranq-ed him from week one.”

“It’s happening now, at least,” Matal said.

One of the recruits, hanging on the edge of the officers’ conversation, gave a nervous laugh. “You don’t think he might already…”

Gaz snorted. “He’d cast better if he had a demon helping him out! But it’s only a matter of time with that one. Put him down, give him the sun.”

One of the other templars have Gaz a friendly shove, laughing. "I don't know, Gaz. I say give Kholin a Harrowing. Let the recruits practice killing a real abomination when he fails."

Kaladin's blood had gone from ice to boiling rage. He shoved his armor into the locker, hanging up the fabric capes before slamming the door closed. He thought it might be possible that Gaz was trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn't believe that all these others would play along for the sake of a prank.

He stalked up to Gaz, giving the smaller man a sharp glare. To his satisfaction, Gaz flinched slightly, then glared back. Kaladin had served his time as a recruit under Gaz's training, putting up with the man's petty attempts at bullying. Even if Gaz still technically outranked him, Kaladin had made it clear early on that he didn’t take to being stepped upon for a superior's amusement. Gaz had stepped lightly around him after that little incident.

"Gaz, did you say Renarin Kholin is being made Tranquil?"

Gaz gave him a look of fake pity. "Oh don't worry, mage-blood. I'm sure they'll keep the brand hot enough for your little brother afterward."

Kaladin didn’t even think. He lunged forward, shoving Gaz back against the wall and pressing his forearm up underneath Gaz’s neck, cutting off his air. His various trainers had all agreed, Kaladin had both the blessing of excellent reflexes and a surgeon’s precision. He’d picked up combat training quite a bit faster than most of the other recruits back when he’d joined. Catching Gaz by surprise like this gave him ample advantage to keep the upper hand.

He growled one word. “When?”

Gaz struggled, but Kaladin had him pinned. “Don’t see why it matters to you,” he spat. “I thought you hated those noble-born sons of--”

Kaladin pressed harder, choking the end of the sentence off before Gaz could utter it. He held him like that for a moment, aware of the stunned eyes of the other templars in the barrack around him. He waited until Gaz was weakly gasping pleas for air before letting up.

“End… of the… week,” Gaz puffed, coughing slightly as he sucked in breath again.

Kaladin let go entirely, stepping back. Before the others could react, the door to the hall opened, Knight-Captain Jennet leaned in, raising an eyebrow at the strange scene. Gaz breathing heavily and rubbing his neck, his lackeys standing in shocked silence around Kaladin, and Kaladin himself standing in the midst of it, looking as unaffected as possible.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked mildly.

Kaladin wasn’t going to offer a defense. He had a feeling none of this group had the courage to snitch on him. It hadn’t even been a real fight. They weren’t willing to tell the Knight-Captain that Kaladin had started something would only reveal how pathetically Gaz had fared throughout it.

“No, ser. No problem,” Matal snapped off sharply. Kaladin silently thanked the Maker that he could always depend on the cowardice of fools.

Jennet gave a wry smile, the one that she didn’t believe that for a moment but also wasn’t willing to press the issue if they wanted to play dumb. “So you’re saying you’ve got no excuse for why you’re going to be late to your next rotation. Training’s over, boys. Get to your posts.”

Kaladin stepped free of the group none too gently, making for the door with a determined step. He didn’t have a posting to go to next; he was up for an hour and a half of free time. He’d originally thought to see if Tien was free, but his plans had abruptly shifted.

He had to do something about this.

**10**

“Knight-Commander!” Kaladin called, hurrying to catch up as he caught sight of the man down the hall.

Knight-Commander Amaram turned, looking back toward him. He always cut a dignified figure in his high-ranking armor, perfectly polished and trimmed. Despite the fact that he came from a noble family, Kaladin liked the Knight-Commander. He led the Order in this Circle well, treating all of the templars equally, it seemed, regardless of their background. He’d been fair in allowing Kaladin to join in order to stay close to Tien. Kaladin had to believe he could do something now, as well.

Amaram gave a nod of acknowledgement as Kaladin saluted. “Knight-Corporal Kaladin, how can I help you?”

“Did you authorize the Rite of Tranquility for Apprentice Kholin?”

Amaram's eyes widened in mild surprise. "Where did you hear that?"

Kaladin pursed his lips. He'd overheard. It wasn't as though he'd gone snooping for the information. "Some of the Knight-Lieutenants ought to keep their gossip quieter in the halls."

“I see,” Amaram said. “Well, it is not ideal that word has gotten out, but yes, the Rite was approved a few days ago.”

“Ser, with all due respect, you’re making a grave mistake.”

Amaram glanced at the hallway the two were standing in. Though it wasn’t busy, it also wasn’t exceedingly private, and the fact that no one was passing by at the moment didn’t mean that no one would do so in the immediate future. The Knight-Commander gestured to the side, to one of the branching hallways that led to his private office.

Kaladin followed, but didn’t wait until they were entirely free of public spaces before continuing. “He’s hardly been here a few months, ser. Most apprentices are given far more training before any kind of decision like that would be made.”

“Adult apostates have always been the exception with this,” Amaram countered calmly. Perhaps he didn’t owe an explanation for his decision, but he could see this was important to Kaladin. “Some apostates have enough grasp of magic to be ready for a Harrowing far sooner than this, some require more training. Even for those who require training, however, one expects to see at least the same measure of progress as the younger students. Apprentice Kholin’s casting skill has been shown to be… far from sufficient.”

“He’s making progress,” Kaladin argued. “It isn’t as though he’s failing entirely to learn how to cast.”

“His slowed pace is unusual, especially for someone his age. It indicates a dangerous lack of capability, and given his results thus far, I am not convinced he will ever reach a point where he would be able to pass a Harrowing.”

They arrived at the office, and Amaram held the door open, ushering Kaladin inside. Kaladin felt only vaguely aware of his surroundings, taking in the familiar sight of the Knight-Commander’s chamber as he focused on the conversation. Books lined shelves around the room, and a sturdy oak desk sat in the middle of the circular room. A set of ceremonial armor rested on a stand off to the side.

“You’re wrong, ser,” Kaladin said, then quickly checked his tone. Snapping at superior officers wasn’t going to help anything. “I’ve heard him speak with instructors about how he spent his apostasy suppressing his ability to cast as much as possible. It’s not exceptional that he would have difficulty overcoming that now that he’s being taught. It isn’t as though he’s failing at all of his training. His marks in spirit magic especially show that he’s capable of picking up complicated spells. He _is_ learning and getting better; he just needs more time.”

Kaladin kept himself from revealing anything about Renarin’s status as a Dreamer, but he couldn’t quite leave out mentioning what casting strength Renarin _did_ have. He could see now that it was likely Renarin had been right about the danger. His difficulty in casting was making him a candidate for Tranquility even without anyone finding out.

Amaram sat down at his desk, gesturing to one of the chairs across from him for Kaladin to take. “And how much time would you suggest, Knight-Corporal? How long should the Circle handle the danger of a remedial mage, knowing that he does not currently possess the skills to fight off possession and seeing his progress in reaching that point slowed?”

“He can pass a Harrowing,” Kaladin insisted. “I’m sure of it. He’s kept himself from being possessed for his entire life. He just needs a little longer, please. Surely the Circle doesn’t want to make the king’s cousin Tranquil. The Rite is meant as a last resort, and if there’s any chance he could pass, doesn’t he deserve to try?”

Kaladin waited for Amaram to accuse him of hypocrisy, that he of all people should mention Renarin’s family as a reason to avoid making him Tranquil. Kaladin, who hated the spoiled privilege of noblemen. Kaladin felt a sting of guilt in bringing it up, but anything that might protect Renarin was worth suffering the cost of his pride.

The accusation did not come. Kaladin wasn’t sure if it was tact which held Amaram from mentioning it, or if he simply wasn’t familiar enough with Kaladin to notice.

“Since you are so very opposed to the currently planned proceedings,” Amaram said calmly, “I wonder if you have an alternate course of action in mind?”

Kaladin hadn't, not before Amaram had said anything at least. All he'd been able to think of was stopping the Rite. Anything beyond that had seemed secondary. Now, however, something came to mind.

"He's in a unique situation as a caster, isn't he?" Kaladin said. "Maybe he just needs someone able to handle the problems he's facing. A mentor, perhaps. Someone to train him one-on-one?"

Amaram nodded, but the notion was one of consideration rather than agreement. "Enchanter Zahel might be able to work with him. Apprentice Kholin would not be the first student with special considerations for Zahel. Mages with casting difficulty tend to be his area of expertise."

Kaladin almost didn't dare hope. "Does this mean you'll give him more time? Another chance?"

"I am considering it," Amaram said. "Before I decide, however, I cannot help but notice that you seem rather knowledgeable about  Kholin's abilities and situation, as well as your specific concern for his well-being."

Kaladin checked himself, trying to keep from blushing. The statement was not quite an accusation, but it drew close. Templars were supposed to stay distant from their charges. Though Kaladin hadn't specifically broken fraternization laws, having a friendship with Renarin would be greatly discouraged.

"He's a good friend of my brother's, ser. And I stand guard in a number of his classes, so I've seen what he can do." He wished he didn't sound defensive. "He's an important member of the Circle, with or without his family's connections. If Tranquility could be avoided, I think it's the Circle's duty to do so."

Amaram raised an eyebrow. "Your brother is not the only one he is good friends with, it seems. There is a reason the Circle is strict on these rules, Knight-Corporal. It's admirable that you would want to look out for him, but there is danger in it to. A templar's job is difficult, but we must be certain there is nothing to make us hesitate when the job must be done."

Kaladin ducked his head, feeling more than a little chastised. "Yes, ser."

"That said," Amaram continued after a small pause, "the points you make are valid. I will take the motion for his Rite of Tranquility and see if he is able to make better progress under the mentorship of Enchanter Zahel. In two months, if he has made satisfactory improvement, I will consider approving a Harrowing."

Kaladin looked up, eyes widening in surprise. He'd done it? He'd convinced the Knight-Commander? He started to open his mouth to thank Amaram, but the man held up a hand, cutting him off.

"I will do this under one condition," Amaram said. "You will serve as his Primary."

A small lurch tugged in Kaladin’s chest. “Primary, ser? The designated slayer?”

“You are the one who has argued to put him through the Harrowing. The consequences of his success or failure are now your responsibility. If he fails, I want you to be the one to strike him down.”

“Ser, if you were worried that I was too close to him… wouldn’t you be afraid of bias?”

It wasn’t necessarily that Kaladin thought he would be incapable of serving as the Primary, but to have his first time be Renarin…. He’d stood as a backup for other Harrowings, and had even seen some failures. He’d known that someday he would likely have to strike down a mage who turned into an abomination, but not this soon.

And not one of his closest friends.

“If you think you would be incapable of making the strike, he can always be made Tranquil instead. I believe I warned you that a templar’s job was not an easy one. Consider this your opportunity to prove that whatever concern you have for him will not interfere with your duty. He is a mage, and he is dangerous. In the event that your trust in him turns him into a monster, I need to be sure you can do as you must and strike him down.”

Kaladin felt sick. This wasn’t at all what he’d wanted when he came after Amaram. “I’m not high .enough ranked, though!” He seized upon the idea, still looking for a way out. “I’m only a Knight-Corporal, ser. A Primary must be a Knight-Lieutenant.”

“This is true. You can consider the day of Apprentice Kholin’s potential Harrowing to your promotion. You’re a good soldier, one of the best this Circle has trained. I’m glad you were allowed to join the Order after your brother was brought in. It was a sound decision, and you’ll make an excellent Knight-Lieutenant. Perhaps even a Knight-Captain someday.”

Stunned by the sudden praise, Kaladin wasn’t quite able to formulate a response. Amaram stood, and something about the motion induced Kaladin back to his feet as well. The Knight-Commander walked back to the door, opening it for Kaladin in a gesture of polite dismissal.

“I imagine you will find this difficult, Knight-Corporal Kaladin,” Amaram said by the door. “I hope this will serve as a lesson regarding the dangers of not keeping one’s distance. Kholin’s fate is your responsibility well. I trust you will make the wise decision when the time comes.”

Kaladin walked back out into the hall, feeling numb. He knew what this was. Not a lesson for him. A test. If the choice came between Renarin and his duty as a templar…

Maker’s breath, he wasn’t certain he knew what his choice would be.

**11**

Enchanter Zahel figured it only a half hour into Renarin’s first training session.

“Were you planning on mentioning that you were a Dreamer, Apprentice?” the grumpy mage asked with a sour expression. “Or were you just hoping I’d be able to teach you how to cast without figuring it out?”

The spell Renarin had been demonstrating -- a very basic spirit ward -- dissipated as the casting guiltily trailed off. The startled apprentice stood in silent chagrin, struggling to find an adequate answer. Looking rather distressed, he shot a glance at Kaladin.

Kaladin wasn’t technically assigned to observe Renarin’s training with Zahel, but Amaram hadn’t technically forbidden him either. Dallet had been happy to trade the post with Kaladin for an easier morning shift, and Kaladin got to observe. He’d started to realize that Renarin seemed less tense when Kaladin was around, and that he cast better when he wasn’t anxious. Kaladin told himself that he was there to help Renarin relax and feel comfortable, and not because he selfishly wanted to watch.

Finally, Renarin recovered from his surprise and lowered his head in an apologetic bow. “It… was the latter, Enchanter Zahel. I was… afraid that I was too dangerous as a Dreamer.”

“All mages are dangerous,” Zahel said, sounding unimpressed. “That’s why you’re in the Circle. To learn how to control yourself and not get possessed. Dreamers are rare, more common among elves than humans. It’s a wonder you didn’t get discovered before this. Have your teachers really not been paying attention?”

Kaladin couldn’t help but speak up. “How _did_ you figure it out, Enchanter?”

“Spirit spells are too good, elemental spells too weak. Most mages, it’s the other way around. That and the dark circles under his eyes that say he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in over a month. Trying to hide skill in spirit magic was a good try, but I just watched him struggle with basic spells. I know what it looks like when your spells really fail. You're not the first apprentice I've taught, Kholin. I can tell when you're faking.”

Renarin kept his hands at his sides, trying to keep himself from nervously smoothing his robes. "What does this mean, Enchanter?"

Zahel snapped his staff down in Renarin's direction. "It means we need a different approach. And you stop lying and keeping secrets. Now, quit wasting my time and show me what you can do."

Renarin took a deep breath, nodded, and stopped holding back.


	4. No Rest In This World Or Beyond

**12**

The day of Renarin's potential Harrowing was swiftly approaching and Kaladin found himself growing more and more nervous. Studying one-on-one with Enchanter Zahel had improved his skills immensely, and Renarin was a competent caster now. Still, Kaladin had seen plenty of well prepared apprentices fail Harrowings.

_Those apprentices weren't Renarin. He'll be fine. Being a Dreamer means he knows about the Fade and resisting demons._

Kaladin kept telling himself that, but it didn't do much to help the worry go away. His own nervousness distracted him, and he was surprised when Renarin gently took his arm after one of the training sessions.

"Kaladin," he said, looking anxious. "I want to tell you something."

Kaladin frowned. "What is it? Is everything okay?"

Renarin met his eyes, and standing next to Kaladin in full armor, the mage looked smaller today than normal. "I know I'm going to be called for the Harrowing soon."

Kaladin blinked. He hadn't said anything, much as he'd wanted to. He held to his vows that far, at least.

"You don't have to say anything. I don't want you to get in trouble. But you and Zahel have started to look worried when you think I'm not looking, especially during my training. I know it's close."

Kaladin hadn't realized just how perceptive he was. Still, he really couldn't confirm or deny, even a little bit. The secrecy around Harrowings was very strict. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Renarin looked about nervously. While there wasn't anyone close, neither were they alone. "Not here. Let's go to the library, please."

The two made their way through the Circle halls, then wove between the towering stacks of bookshelves in the library. Though there were always people studying, the labyrinthine layout provided pockets of privacy.

Kaladin realized Renarin was leading them back to the place where he'd first caught the once-prince sleeping. "Renarin, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

Renarin sat down on one of the reading benches, suddenly looking quite a bit more tired than he had before. Were his dreams acting up again? Kaladin took the chair across from him, sitting close so that they could talk quietly, hopefully avoiding eavesdroppers.

“I…” Renarin started, then paused. “Kaladin, what I want to tell you… no one else knows about it. No one at all. And I’ve been keeping it to myself because I didn’t know who else to tell, but I know there’s a chance that my Harrowing might go… badly.”

Kaladin shook his head firmly. “Don’t talk like that. You’ll be fine.”

“I appreciate the encouragement, but we both have to admit that there’s a chance that I won’t. The fact is, I haven’t told anyone, but.. I can’t let this secret die with me. It’s dangerous, but someone needs to know what really happened. Someone has to remember it, and you’re the only person I trust in the Circle.

Kaladin took the seat across from him, feeling concerned at the weighty introduction to whatever this topic was. “Of course. You know you can trust me.”

Renarin gave a small smile, but he still looked somewhat queasy. “Do you remember when Zahel talked about Dreamers?”

“Somewhat. A lot of it sounded like mage talk, so I tuned out on some of the technical stuff. I figured it was meant more for you anyway..”

“Well, there was something he mentioned,” Renarin said slowly. “About the history of the talent. It’s… elven. Extremely rare in humans.”

“So… you’re saying that you’re an anomaly as a human Dreamer?”

Renarin winced, but Kaladin wasn’t entirely certain what he’d said wrong. “Not… exactly. See, there are a few human Dreamers but they’re… well, elf-blooded. Almost always directly; one parent elven, one parent human.”

Kaladin blinked, then immediately looked around to make certain they were alone. Dangerous secrets indeed. “Wait, I admittedly don’t know much about the royal family and noble stuff, but I’m fairly sure elves aren’t allowed to marry into the ruling line. Are you saying you’re… illegitimate? Are you… not actually Dalinar Kholin’s son?” Even as he spoke, Kaladin realized how indelicate that sounded. These were sensitive issues, but in the shock of it, he hadn’t thought before speaking.

“Yes… and no. It’s complicated.” Renarin closed his eyes, taking a breath as he pressed his hands against his legs in a steadying motion. This was, no doubt, a very difficult thing to talk about. “He _is_ my father, but my mother wasn’t who everyone thought she was. Everyone thinks that my mother was an Orlesian noblewoman from a distant house, who died when I was young, but she wasn’t. She was Dalish. A mage, like me.”

Kaladin leaned back, trying to parse this. Secrets like these in a noble family could be life or death kinds of scandals if brought to light. “So Dalinar took you in, raised you with your older brother and just hid the fact that you weren’t legitimate from the court?”

Renarin shrunk down a bit. “He doesn’t know. Like I said… no one knows except for me. Not Adolin, not my father, not anyone else in the family.”

"How can they not know? I mean, how do you miss something like that?"

“They don’t remember!” The words stumbled out in a rush, and Renarin looked down, shaking his head. “This is… a lot harder than I was expecting it to be.”

Kaladin put a hand on his knee, trying to reassure him. Something important was happening, and he had a feeling that whatever this was, it was something Renarin really needed to say. “And something tells me you were expecting it to be hard anyway.”

That managed to get Renarin to crack a small smile. “Something like that, yeah. Maybe I should just start back at the beginning.”

**13**

In the darkened library halls, Renarin began his story softly, pushing his hands against the knees of his robes again in long, even motions. “It started during the campaigns, when my father and uncle were trying to reunify Ferelden after the Orlesians were forced out. Out in the eastern forests, the armies ran into a Dalish clan. Their First helped them navigate and scout through the unfamiliar terrain. She and my father became very close and… when the time came for the army to move on, she left her clan to come with them.”

There was something surreal in listening to famous historical events like the reunificaiton told in such a way. Renarin was so very unassuming, especially in the Circle, it was easy to forget that he was royalty, and that his family was the most important house in the country. The current king was his cousin, and his father had been the great general, the Blackthorn, the Highprince that had rebuilt Ferelden after the Orlesian occupation.

“They loved each other, of course,” Renarin continued, “but they couldn’t be married. An elf in the royal family? It would never be accepted by the court. But she lived just outside of Denerim and my father came to visit her often and make sure she had everything she needed. Her relationship with my father was considered a shameful dalliance for him, but wasn’t a great secret either. After she had Adolin, she took care of him with my father’s support, but the Highprince’s elf-blooded son wouldn’t be allowed to live at court.

“Then she had me, and things started to go wrong.”

Renarin fell silent for a moment, and Kaladin had to hold himself back from prompting for more. He knew this was difficult to talk about for the mage, but these were things he’d never heard of and he couldn’t understand how it was all coming together. After a small pause, Renarin took a steadying breath, and kept going.

“I… she became sick after I was born, and though she tried everything she could think of, nothing worked to make her better. Her healing magic didn’t work to cure it, and neither did any other kind of remedy. My father even brought the royal physician out to treat her, but nothing made a difference. She was dying, and she knew the court would never let my father take Adolin and me in and claim us as his sons as long as it was known we were elf-blooded.

“So, with the last of her strength, she used blood magic to summon a demon and make a deal.”

Despite his background and familiarity with apostates, Kaladin’s templar training made him flinch at that. He knew the Dalish were much more casual about that kind of thing, but living in a Circle engrained some instincts about certain kinds of spells. “She was a blood mage?”

“Only as a last resort,” Renarin said quickly. “She was desperate and she didn’t know what else to do. She offered what was left of her power to the demon and agreed to be possessed, and in return, demon would… erase her from memory. No one would remember that she existed, no one would know that Adolin and I were her children. Instead, the demon gave everyone new memories of a fake noblewoman, recently deceased, who was supposedly my father’s wife and our mother.

“She timed it so that he was already on his way to see her and us. One moment, he’s going to visit the woman he loves, and then the demon’s magic took hold, and he stumbles on possessed elf mage that he believes kidnapped his children. I can’t tell you how many times I heard the story of how he… rescued us from that. The elven maleficar who tried to steal us away.”

Kaladin could only guess how wide-eyed he looked at all of this. “He killed her?”

Renarin gave a small nod. “He didn’t know who she was, and it’s what she wanted to happen after letting the demon possess her. She knew she didn’t have long to live, anyway, and I guess she thought it was better to die doing something to protect Adolin and me, so that we’d be taken care of after she was gone.”

Kaladin sat back, trying to take it all in. He knew that magic could do some truly powerful things, but something like that was almost incredible. Erasing someone from memory was no small feat, even with a demon’s power to help. Something nagged at him about the story, however.

“Renarin,” he said carefully, “how do you know this? I mean, you said that you were only an infant at the time, and if everyone’s memories were changed, how did you find out about it?”

Renarin shivered slightly, and for a moment Kaladin regretted the question. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Renarin, but…. it was a story that stretched belief. “When I first started to manifest powers, I told you that it started with dreams. See, the demon that my real mother made a deal with, it felt tricked, because she had set up the situation so that she was killed quickly after being possessed. When it found that I was a mage and a Dreamer, it started coming for me at night.

“At first I thought they were just nightmares, but they were the same night after night. The demon told me what really happened, the truth about my actual mother, and the deal she had made with it. It said it was cheated, that it deserved more time and more power in exchange for what it had done. Said that it deserved to take me, in exchange for how its magic had ensured Adolin and I were protected.

“It’s a Terror, I think. Probably a Greater Terror, considering how powerful it is. It knew that if it could make me afraid enough, it would be able to break through and possess me. I heard night after night about how magic made me dangerous, that magic was why my mother had died alone and completely forgotten at the hands of the man she loved. It said that if anyone found out the truth that Adolin and I were elf-blooded, our family would be ruined and everyone would hate us.  It said that someday it would turn me into a monster and I would hurt my family and everyone I cared about.”

Kaladin frowned, his templar training making him wary of anything involving demons. “Are you sure it’s true, though? I mean, wouldn’t a demon say anything to try to make you afraid? You can’t trust them. How can you know that it wasn’t just making everything up?”

“Palace libraries hold a lot of documents, especially about things like family lines and things like that,” Renarin said. “When the dreams kept coming, I started looking to see if there was any truth in them. The person that everyone remembers as my mother isn’t real. On the surface, things looked right, and there were documents that mentioned her, but the more I looked, the more holes I found. There’s no record of the family she came from except in reference to her. She never shows up on paper, unless it’s as my father’s wife. The demon was powerful, but even magic can’t just create a person who never existed. Everyone remembers her though, so why would they question whether or not she was real? I was only able to find the proof because I knew what I was looking for.”

He looked down at his hands. “Besides, a nightmare that’s a lie doesn’t have much power. You wake up and it’s gone. Something that’s true, something about yourself that you can’t escape… that’s much more terrifying. The demon knew if it wanted to get me, it would need something I would really be afraid of. I guess it didn’t count on me learning to ward it off as well as I did.”

Renarin looked shaken, and there was room on the reading bench beside him, so Kaladin moved across. “And you told me,” Kaladin said, “because you’re afraid that if something happens to you, no one will know the truth.”

Renarin nodded, not looking up. “I’m the only person who knows she even existed, but there wasn’t anyone else I could tell. It was too dangerous, because if anyone found out, it’d mean she did all of this for nothing. But… someone has to know the truth. Someone has to know what she did, know that she was real. I… I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for any of this, but I didn’t know who else I could trust.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kaladin put an arm around Renarin’s shoulders, giving him a small, reassuring squeeze. “You can always trust me. I can’t imagine keeping something like that secret for so long.”

Renarin gave a small shrug. “Between this and the magic thing, I guess I just got used to keeping secrets. Everyone at court thought I was the weird, quiet son anyway, so it wasn’t too difficult. No one ever got close enough to find out.”

Kaladin turned his head toward him, and Renarin finally looked up. “Their mistake, then.”


	5. A Sword to Pierce the Sun

**14**

There was a sealed envelope waiting for Kaladin when he woke up, with Amaram’s mark. A summons, for as soon as Kaladin could get ready in his formal uniform. He dressed quickly, the colored cloth bright and well pressed underneath silvery armor more intricate than that he usually wore. As he headed out to the Knight-Commander’s office, he has a sinking feeling he already knew what this was about.

Kaladin knocked and entered, quickly moving to attention. “Knight-Corporal Kaladin, ser.”

Amaram walked around his desk. “Not anymore. Congratulations on your promotion, Knight-Lieutenant.”

Kaladin didn’t think he’d ever received an accolade that made him feel quite so sick. All the anxiety about this day that he’d been putting off and pressing down welled up at the sudden immediacy. Still, he forced himself to keep a straight face as he nodded. “Thank you, ser. Do you… have an assignment for me this morning?”

“Of course,” Amaram said, with a chuckle for Kaladin’s formality. As though either of them would have forgotten the arrangement they’d made. “You are called to serve as the Primary in the Harrowing of Apprentice Renarin Kholin. Please inform him after breakfast and escort him to the Harrowing chamber by fourth bell.”

He managed a nod. “Yes, ser.”

As he turned to leave, Amaram held up a hand. “Templar, are you sure you can do this? If it comes to the worst, can you be counted on to do your duty?”

Kaladin stopped and gave him a level look. “Ser, are you usually in the habit of asking a Primary if he is fit to serve?”

“Perhaps not,” Amaram said, raising an eyebrow at the question.

“Then, with all due respect, I don’t see why there should be any difference with me. I know what is expected of me.” Kaladin forced himself to keep a level expression. “May I take my leave, ser?”

Amaram nodded, waving a dismissal and turning back to his desk. Perhaps Kaladin’s response could have been taken as insubordinate, but it was phrased respectfully enough to get by, it seemed. If he was honest with himself, what Amaram thought of him at the moment seemed insignificant compared to what was coming.

Renarin was ready. He _had_ to be, or all this would be for naught. It felt so fast, but he knew that the agreed upon amount of time had passed, and it was now or never. Renarin’s casting had gotten much better under Zahel’s tutelage, but he still wasn’t quite as adept as most who were taken in to be Harrowed. Still, what the apprentices didn’t know was that the Harrowing was not a test of casting ability. It was a test of will and strength of mind. If anyone could pass, it would be Renarin. He knew how to resist possession. He’d make it through.

He had to.

Still, thoughts of the alternative kept Kaladin feeling sick all through his walk back through the halls and on into breakfast.

**15**

Kaladin walked into the wing of the mages’ quarters flanked by Knight-Corporal Dallet and Knight-Lieutenant Gaz, feeling as though he had an ally on one side and an enemy on the other. Even though his promotion was an hour old, Kaladin was temporarily the ranking officer, as the appointed Primary. He wished he could enjoy the feeling of outranking Gaz, but all he could think was how much he didn’t want the man to be there.

Dallet, on the other hand, was a good soldier and a good acquaintance, if not quite a friend. He’d looked out for Tien in classes where Kaladin wasn’t there and he was always kind and respectful, especially to recruits and apprentices who struggled to pick up the training. Kaladin trusted Dallet to have his back if things went wrong today.

_Nothing’s going to go wrong. Don’t even think it. Renarin will be fine._

“So,” Gaz said, and Kaladin immediately braced himself not to punch the man for whatever he was planning on saying next. “How long did you spend licking the Knight-Commander’s boots clean to get him to rescind the Rite for your little friend?”

“Gaz, just drop it,” Dallet said in his low rumbling voice. Unfortunately, as he was the lowest ranked among them, Gaz ignored the comment completely.

“I’m sure if the Knight-Commander approved this course, Apprentice Kholin has earned the right to be Harrowed like any other mage.” Kaladin said evenly.

“Well, he’ll make good target practice at least,” Gaz said, armor clinking as he stretched his arms over his head. “You know, it’s a good thing that I got assigned here so that we’ve got a _real_ Knight-Lieutenant here to finish the job when you can’t make the strike. Of course, infractions like that are liable to get you disbanded. Not killing an abomination is a pretty big thing. I’d say I’d miss seeing you around, but I’m actually looking forward to Amaram throwing you out on your ass.”

Kaladin stopped and turned on his heel. “If anyone knows about getting thrown on their ass, it’s you, Gaz. If I’m remembering correctly at least. Did you get any better at handling recruits since you tried to train me? Or do you still get stuck on petty bullying tactics until you run up against someone who knows how to hit back.”

“Leave it to you to find a way to brag about being the worst behaved recruit I ever got stuck with.”

“It’s still better than being the worst superior officer that anyone’s ever served under. This can go two ways Gaz: you shut up and let me handle this the way it’s supposed to be handled, or you can continue to spew garbage and I’ll make certain that you are as miserable as you’re making the rest of us. My suggestion? Unless you actually have something valuable and relevant to our current assignment, shut up.”

Without giving Gaz a chance to respond, Kaladin turned and started walking again, hoping the man would take the hint that his suggestion was effective immediately. Behind him he heard Dallet mutter that Gaz should just drop and let them get this finished. Kaladin made a mental note to thank Dallet for that later.

The rest of the walk to the apprentice dorms was mercifully uneventful. Kaladin stepped up to the heavy wooden doors and gave a knock of warning before opening them and stepping in. Most of the apprentices were just coming back from breakfast, gathering books and getting ready for class. Renarin was off to one side, making up his bunk neatly. He, like most of the rest of the apprentices in the room, looked up as the trio of templars entered. When he saw Kaladin at the fore, his eyes widened slightly.

As wrong as it felt, with Gaz along to watch him, Kaladin would have to do everything by the books. “Apprentice Renarin Kholin,” he called clearly. “If you would please come with me and bring your staff.”

Renarin gave a small nod and picked up his staff -- a basic Circle-issued weapon. Hiding his status for so long meant he’d had no staff of his own when he’d arrived. It was usable, but nothing fancy. He gripped it in one hand, the other hand pressed against his side as he walked up. He kept his eyes forward, and though Kaladin knew him well enough to see how nervous he was, to the others he probably seemed calm. Hushed whispers ran through the room in the quiet. The others had seen mages being called for Harrowings before, and they understood what was happening.

Kaladin ushered him out into the hallway, then sent Dallet, as the lowest ranking templar, forward to make sure the halls were clear of eavesdroppers as they walked. He wished he could have sent Gaz, but protocol was what it was. When Dallet gave the signal that the route ahead was clear, Kaladin began the explanation.

“Apprentice Kholin,” he said, forcing himself to keep his eyes forward, “the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander have decided that your skills have progressed to the point that you must be tested. Before the Circle can recognize you as a full mage, with all the rights and privileges that entails, you must demonstrate that you and your magic will not be a danger to others. Thus, you will face a Harrowing.

“All aspects of the Harrowing are confidential and must remain secret. You are not to discuss the details of your task with any apprentices or anyone who is outside the Circle. Even among those who are familiar with the test, such as templars and other mages, talk of the experience should be kept to a minimum. Is this understood?”

“Yes, ser.” Out of the corner of his eye, Kaladin can see that Renarin is also keeping his eyes straight forward as they walk down the hall.

“Very well. As a mage, your abilities, though formidable--” This elicited a small grunt from Gaz that might have been played off as a cough. “--are not the only danger you pose. Therefore, the Circle finds it necessary to test that a mage is able to resist the temptations of the Fade and has the willpower to keep from becoming possessed.

“The Harrowing is this test of will. With the aid of lyrium, you will enter the Fade in full awareness, where you must face a demon and defeat it before you will be able to wake up. If you succeed, you will be named a full mage. If you fail, you will become an abomination, at which point, there will be Templars standing by to strike you down.”

Kaladin could almost feel Gaz’s stare boring into the two of them. He knew there were rumors that he’d broken his oaths and warned Renarin or his brother about the Harrowing beforehand, but he hadn’t, much as he’d been tempted to. He couldn’t risk anything that might jeopardize either of them, though it felt cruel not to tell them beforehand.

Of course, because Gaz’s silence was too convenient to last, the one-eyed templar spoke up from the other side of Renarin. “Oh come on, _Knight-Lieutenant,_ ” he said, sneering Kaladin’s new title, “tell him the best part, why don’t you? Your role in this little test, huh?”

Kaladin gritted his teeth, but kept from breaking composure. “I have been assigned as your Primary. In the event that you fail, I have the responsibility of making the first strike.”

There was something guarded in the way that Renarin said: “I see,” but Kaladin didn’t trust himself to look over and see his expression.

They stopped in front of the doors to the Harrowing chamber, Dallet falling into the formation as he rejoined them. Kaladin moved on to the last part of the preparatory speech, even though he already knew the answer. “If you feel you do not wish to face the Harrowing, you can request the Rite of Tranquility instead. Do you wish to continue?”

“Yes, ser. I wish to continue.” Renarin’s voice was steady.

“Oh good,” Gaz said, stretching his arms out, looking at Kaladin with a cruel grin. “Here I was worried this might get boring”

Glancing toward him, Kaladin decided to take the opportunity. “Since you’re so eager to get started, Knight-Lieutenant, why don’t you go in and tell them the apprentice is here and ready to begin?”

Gaz opened his mouth as though he were going to argue, but with Dallet back and a direct order from the ranking templar in the group, there wasn’t much he could actually do about it. Scowling, he pushed the door open.

Though Dallet was still on the other side, Kaladin couldn’t go into this without saying anything. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath, eyes still forward.

Renarin looked over. “What?”

“I’m sorry that it’s me. That I’m the Primary. There wasn’t another way.”

“Kaladin,” Renarin whispered slowly. “I’m glad it’s you. I trust you.”

Kaladin turned in surprise, and was grateful to see that Dallet appeared to be pretending he couldn’t hear anything. “Wait, really?”

“If this goes badly--”

“Don’t say that. You’ll be fine.”

“Kaladin, if I don’t make it through I know you’ll handle it. If it comes to that, don’t hesitate, okay? Don’t let me hurt anyone.”

That deep-set sickness clenched in Kaladin’s stomach again, but he managed to nod. “I won’t.”

The door opened again and Gaz leaned out. “Hope you’re ready, Kholin. Bring him in.”

**16**

As Renarin’s hand touched the silvery surface of the lyrium in the dish, he gasped before falling limp into the arms of the mages standing by to catch him. They laid him down gently on the floor of the chamber, and the templars took up positions around him. Kaladin took his place standing by Renarin’s head, the point of his unsheathed sword touching the ground almost close enough to brush against the mage’s hair.

He tried to tell himself that it was no different from when he’d guarded Renarin asleep before, as though they’d snuck away in order to let him catch some safe, warded sleep. But there were no wards here now, and the other armored figures around him were too much a reminder that at any moment the worst could happen, and Kaladin would have to strike him down.

In some ways, he reassured himself, Renarin would be more prepared for this than the average mage. Awareness of the Fade was something he could achieve naturally as a Dreamer, without the lyrium. That aspect of the Harrowing should be familiar to him. His deeper connection to the Fade meant that was probably more likely to attract spiritual attention, so staving off demons should be a regular experience for him as well.

Yet, Kaladin also knew that he was used to having protection around him when he was in the Fade, and the Harrowing had stripped all of that away. What if Renarin found himself on the other side without any of his usual defenses, and didn’t know how to compensate for the new vulnerability?

A dark part of his templar training deep within said that if Renarin couldn’t do this, he was too dangerous to be left on his own anyway. Kaladin tried to ignore it, but the awful thought kept snagging at him.

The Knight-Commander and First Enchanter both stood by to watch the test. Every time Kaladin looked up, he found Amaram watching him. There was a question in his regard: _Are you sure you’re going to be able to do this? Can you really strike him down if you must?_

The waiting was torture, and Kaladin felt like he couldn’t stop fidgeting. His hands adjusted their grip on the hilt every few minutes, or he’d shift his stance from one foot to the other. His armor felt wrong, and he couldn’t stop shrugging his shoulders to try to adjust the fit, to no avail. He knew it was just his own worry making him uncomfortable, that didn’t stop him from trying to alleviate it anyway.

When Renarin finally moved, after what seemed like an eternity, every templar around the ring tensed. Gaz went so far as to raise his sword, but Kaladin put out a hand, glaring at him until he put it back down. Renarin’s eyes snapped open and he exhaled as though he’d had his breath held the whole time. For a moment his gaze was unfocused as he stared upward at the circle of faces around him.

Then his eyes found Kaladin and he smiled.

Kaladin let out a sigh of relief, reaching down to help Renarin sit up. “He’s back, ser. He’s made it through.”

At Kaladin’s signal, the templars stepped back from him, letting one of the attending mages through to check that Renarin was  both okay and still unpossessed. Renarin answered the questions to him calmly, sounding both tired and relieved to be through it. Kaladin couldn’t help but glance at Amaram to see the man’s reaction. The Knight-Commander gave a small smile and nod of concession in Kaladin’s direction, as though admitting that Kaladin had been right to push for a Harrowing. That more than anything made him feel they had finally pulled through to the other side of this.

“Knight-Lieutenant Kaladin,” Amaram said, stepping forward. “Enchanter Kholin will want to rest after this. Would you please escort him to his new room in the mages’ quarters and send someone to fetch his things from the apprentices’ quarters?”

“Of course, ser,” Kaladin said, offering Renarin an arm to stand. “Dallet, can you ensure his things make it safely?”

Dallet smiled. “Of course, ser.”

Renarin’s hold on Kaladin’s arm was weak, and Kaladin had a feeling he was probably the only thing holding the mage on his feet. They walked from the room slowly, arm in arm. The others would clean up the lyrium or head off to their other tasks once they’d left. Kaladin and Renarin stayed quiet for a while, wanting to put space between themselves and the room before talking.

The greater distance between them and the Harrowing, the better.

**17**

After the first flight of stairs, Renarin motioned toward a bench, so Kaladin led him over. As they sunk down, Renarin laughed softly.

“I… still can’t quite believe I made it through that.”

Kaladin smiled broadly, taking the seat beside him. “Congratulations, _Enchanter_ Kholin.”

“And congratulations to you, _Knight-Lieutenant._ I didn’t get to ask about it before, when did that happen?”

Kaladin shook his head. “This morning. Only a Knight-Lieutenant or higher can serve as Primary, and that was Amaram’s stipulation for your Harrowing.”

“I really am glad it was you, Kaladin,” Renarin said softly. “When you started describing what the Harrowing was, I didn’t know if I was going to be strong enough to make it through. Knowing you were standing on the other side helped me hold on in there.”

Kaladin had a sudden awareness that their arms were still linked together, and in his exhaustion, Renarin had leaned against him. He thought of how worried he’d been and every moment of nauseous waiting throughout. Then he moved to wrap his arm around Renarin’s shoulders, careful not to let his armor hurt him.

“Never doubted you for a moment.”


End file.
